The Dominion - Arts

Mesoamerica Resiste

Tim McSorley — Mon, 02 May 2011 05:34:54 +0000

The story behind the cover

The cover image for our 2011 special issue on climate justice, "A People's Forecast," was adapted from the graphic on the right for The Dominion by the Beehive Collective. Thanks, Bees!

The Beehive Design Collective’s Graphics Campaigns use images to communicate and educate, cross-pollinating the grassroots with stories of the realities of our times, their historical roots and potential futures. The cover of this issue and the smaller image to the left are part of a collaborative graphic design project by the Beehive to draw attention to stories of resistance to the Project Mesoamerica, formerly known as Plan Puebla Panama (PPP).

The name of this campaign, Mesoamerica Resiste,reflects our efforts to go beyond illustrating corporate globalization plans to illustrate, document and share diverse stories of survival, community development, collective action and inspiration. The cover image, adapted from a black and white drawing from the forthcoming Mesoamerica Resiste poster, links a history of resistance against colonial control of land and resources to contemporary climate justice struggles.

The image is part of a mobius strip scene that depicts:

Troops forcing the resisting ants into a mass grave, to show the history of how social movements are repressed with mass arrests, forced disappearances and massacres.
The Scorched Earth, or Tierra Arrasada, a military tactic of terrorizing and attacking civilians, used in the genocidal war in Guatemala with backing from high-ups in the US administration.
A monstrous machine that’s half-tank and half-tractor, to link military violence with the violence of industrial agriculture. The tank-tractor is shown assaulting mother corn with pesticides and genetically modified seed.

The original drawing continues downward to show:

Agrofuels spill from the corporate Trojan horse. Disguised as a solution to climate change, production of agrofuels such as ethanol fails to address massive over-consumption of fuels by a minority in the Global North.
“Cornquistadors” are used as a double metaphor: historically killing Indigenous people with smallpox, and now killing indigenous corn with gene contamination.

Ants are a symbol for popular resistance. While they are protesting at the top of the graphic, the ants underneath, with the spider, represent traditional knowledge, subsistence farming communities, sowing seed, saving seed, and building the soil.

This was published in A People's Forecast: The Climate Justice Issue, our 2011 special issue. To read more articles as they are published, click here.

mesoamerica resiste

Figuring Out Fair Use

Tim McSorley — Wed, 26 Jan 2011 05:06:52 +0000

As Canada updates its copyright laws, a new clause is stirring debate among creators

SYDNEY, NS—A House of Commons committee will resume hearings this month to consider Canada's copyright fate as laid out in Bill C-32, the Copyright Modernization Act. While public discussion of this bill—and of copyright in general—often centres around on-line and digital rights, many are concerned about the bill's impact on written material.

“If Bill C-32 passes, I stand to lose 85 per cent of my income,” says Douglas Arthur Brown. Brown has published five books, and is one of the 140,000 creators in Canada’s $46 billion arts and cultural industry.

Bill C-32 is a sweeping attempt to bring Canada’s copyright act up-to-date, touching on everything from performance art to digital music to photography.

If passed, Bill C-32 will legitimize that little red "record" button on VCRs tucked away in people’s attics and in electronic recycle heaps across the nation. As it stands, it's still illegal for Canadians to record TV shows. C-32 will also give legal permission to those folks already on the other end of the technological spectrum who use DVR televisions to digitally record television content.

Overall, it would bring Canada’s copyright regulations up-to-date on many aspects of day-to-day life. But the bill includes elements that some feel aren't favourable to all Canadians.

Brown says that a new phrase included in the update to the copyright act will lead many authors to lose part of their income, some significantly. Bill C-32 includes "education" as a clause for “fair dealing” purposes.

Fair dealing means it's not an infringement of copyright to use work for fair purposes. Until now this has included using materials for work related to research, private study, criticism, review or news reporting; the changes would add educational uses to this list.

Brown argues that he and many others in the creative community (the changes would apply just as much to filmmakers, musicians and visual artists as it would to writers) fear the implications of such an exemption, mainly because "education" is undefined in the bill.

“Our issue is simply just putting the word "education" there—what does that mean?” says Executive Director of Access Copyright, Maureen Caven.

Access Copyright is a collective agency representing individual writers, playwrights and composers whose works have been copyrighted. Educational institutions purchase licenses from Access Copyright authorizing the copying of a specified amount of printed copyrighted material.

Likened to the way musicians receive a cheque each time their music is played on the radio from the Society of Composers, Authors and Music Publishers of Canada (better known as SOCAN), Access Copyright collects license fees from educational institutions and then pays this revenue back to writers—and this can amount to substantial income. In the case of Brown, these payments total the 85 per cent in revenue he fears he will lose.

With these licenses, educational institutions are allowed to copy a section of a novel—say, a chapter—so long as the chapter is less than 20 per cent of the completed work.

Caven says including education as fair dealing will mean there are no parametres around what and where the term "education" applies.

“Is it restricted to classrooms?" he says. "What about training in other areas, training within corporations, educating clients?”

The inclusion of education in the fair dealing clause would not eliminate the fee payments educational institutions make to Access Copyright. However, Caven says the fear is the specified amount covered by the license will be ignored because the term "education" is ambiguous.

Some industry watchers say Caven's fears are unfounded. David Fewer, a lawyer who has written and taught about copyright law for many years, says there is no way educational institutions would have carte blanche to photocopy however much they want merely because of the clause “fair dealing for education” is included.

“If you tell a story and it sounds unfair, then it probably is unfair,” says Fewer, who is also the director of the Canadian Internet Policy and Public Interest Clinic. “Copying entire copies of books? How is that fair? It’s not fair, so it wouldn’t be allowed.”

Fewer says this new provision will allow students to make legal use of others' content. He says he’s in favor of students using pre-existing work to create new videos or stories—commonly known as mash-ups. Fewer says encouraging students to create mash-ups might work in authors’ favor, as students will then be able to bring writers into the curriculum who might not have been there otherwise.

The Canadian School Boards Association (CSBA) has long lobbied for education to be considered fair dealing. Their website states, “These proposed amendments would provide a legal framework for students and for teachers regarding the use of freely-available Internet materials for educational purposes without fear of infringing copyright.”

The CSBA further adds that it would balance the rights of educational users of copyrighted material with that of the creators.

Brown holds firm, however, that, since the phrase itself is undefined, writers cannot be assured that excessive and uncompensated copying won’t happen. Only the Supreme Court of Canada can decide if something is fair dealing, and each incident is decided on a case-by-case basis. Brown says writers don’t have the resources if they needed to take a case to court.

This is the third time the Conservative government has attempted to pass a bill to update Canada’s copyright rules. The first attempt died on the table when an election was called in 2005; the second when Harper’s proroguing of parliament dissolved all bills under consideration in 2008.

Bill C-32 has already passed Second Reading. It now sits at the legislative committee level. Comprised of 12 members of parliament, these individuals will hear from more than 400 witnesses over the next few months. No new elements can be added to the bill; amendments alone are permitted.

Brown was among the first individuals to present to the committee in mid-December. “They asked me if there was anything in the bill that I as a creator could support, and I told them no.”

Brown told the committee that, if passed, the bill would mean far more copying by teachers, while publishers and writers produce less work for schools. “You will be making my life’s work much more difficult to sustain.”

Fewer doesn't agree creators will lose any compensation with this provision. “It streamlines the process of getting content into the classroom,” he says. “It doesn’t let you get away with content without paying for it. However, it lets you get the best use of content you have paid for.”

He says writers should be more concerned about other aspects of Bill C-32, including digital locks being placed on their on-line work and ensuring they receive fair rates from publishers for on-line rights.

Fewer will be among at least 400 witnesses set to testify before the legislative committee considering Bill C-32. Amendments will be suggested and drafted during that time.

Maureen Caven of Access Copyright maintains that the bill cannot be passed without a clearer explanation of how the term fair dealing relates to education.

“A definition would be nice,” says Caven. “That’s the amendment that would be nice.”

Back home in Cape Breton after presenting in Ottawa, Brown says he doesn’t plan to stay quiet. “I’ll continue to get the word out there, because not being compensated for my copyrighted work is anything but fair.”

Norma Jean MacPhee lives in Sydney, Cape Breton where she continues her journey as a freelance writer and broadcaster.

Fair use in flight

RebELLEs Give Oppression the Boot

Moira Peters — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 05:19:02 +0000

New Brunswick gumbooters troupe give feminist education a kick

FREDERICTON—There are many uses for rubber boots. The obvious ones are to keep your feet dry when it rains or to keep them clean while doing yard work. Some people use them as flower pots. But the Fredericton-based NB RebELLEs are using their boots to challenge capitalism, colonialism, patriarchy, and all other oppression that plagues our society. They are feminist; they are synchronized; and—oppressors beware!—they will call you out to the catchy rhythm of stomping and boot-slapping.

As any of the gumbooting RebELLEs would explain, gumbooting as a dance is only a fraction of what they do.

“If you wanted a sterile description of gumbooting, it is stomping, slapping and clapping; but it is so much more than those mechanics. The richness comes from the symbolic value of its history, and its use as a tool of communication and resistance,” stated Carolyn*, one of the troupe’s gumbooters.

Gumbooting started in the mines of South Africa when slaves were given rubber boots because it was cheaper than draining water out of the mines. The slaves, working in the dark, were forbidden to talk to each other. In defiance of the slave-owners they developed a language by stomping and slapping their boots. The practice evolved out of the mines, and is now used in a spirit of celebration. The RebELLEs have appropriated the medium—originally a resistance to oppression, now an art form—to further the feminist struggle.

The NB RebELLEs were born out of the national "Waves of Resistance" Pan-Canadian Young Feminist Gathering in Montreal in 2008. They weave parts of the gathering's manifesto between bursts of percussive dance to make a stance on issues of oppression, such as the historical and ongoing colonial policies Canada embraces.

Rise against colonialism!
Down with governments that use force and intimidation to impose conformity, limit choice and reinforce the status quo.
We resist the discrimination against Muslims and Middle Eastern people, and all forms of racial profiling.
We stand in solidarity with families and communities of missing and murdered Aboriginal women.
All over Canada, stolen native land continues to be developed illegally and for profit while the government fails to uphold treaty rights.

The RebELLEs' performances outline their vision of communities committed to eradicating violence, building solidarity and developing institutions that promote justice, peace and equality.

These are big ideas, but by using the dance as a vehicle for their message, they are able to reach a wide audience.

“Gumbooting is so accessible and draws people in. We’ve been at events where everyone seemed hostile and we weren’t even sure if they were going to clap,” said Carolyn. “But we've had people come to us at the end and tell us that they had never thought of these issues. We once had a man tell us: ‘I can’t believe you managed to slip in such a feminist message.' We’re making people aware that there is still a women's movement and [women] are still not equal.”

“[The gumboot troupe] is a visible part of the feminist movement, and blatant visibility is often lacking,” said Keri, another RebELLE gumbooter.

The NB RebELLEs do not preach to the converted, nor do they soften their message to avoid offending the audience. They performed at two ”Women in Business” conferences on International Women's Day this year. Many of the women in attendance worked in a corporate environment.

“Capitalism hurts women,” said the RebELLEs during the performance. “Pay inequity, insufficient parental leave, unacceptable childcare, unaffordable childcare, double standards, sexual harassment, glass ceiling, sweatshops. Rise against capitalism!”

“We felt that it was important to speak specifically about how capitalism hurts women, so we adapted our message for it. That was the only time that I’ve actually noticed people walking out of our performance,” said Keri, laughing. “It was antithetical to their conference and provocative, but we wanted to show up and challenge people, their assumptions, and the way they exist in the world.”

Keri explained that most performances have been well received. “I’ve had an intergenerational spectrum of people come to me and tell me, ‘That was amazing!’ I even had a lady ask, ‘Can I gumboot with my cane?’"

Keri reflected on a RebELLEs performance at a memorial vigil in Miramichi for the victims of the Montreal Massacre. "Right before we took the stage, some of the troupe met a survivor of domestic abuse who had just recently started talking openly about her experience. During our performance, there is a part when I talk about feminism and give our definition of it while the rest of the gumbooters stand with their fists in the air. At that point, the woman was sitting in the audience and she raised her fist with us, which then prompted the majority of the crowd to do the same. It was such a powerful moment."

*The gumbooters requested that only their first names be used in this article.

The RebELLEs are recruiting in the fall! Check out their blog for the full manifesto and more information.

Marie-Christine Allard is a member of the New Brunswick Media Co-op. An original version of this story was published by the New Brunswick Media Co-op.

Rebelles Panorama

Giving Algonquins a Good Rap

dru — Sat, 13 Mar 2010 10:14:21 +0000

Hip-hop artist Samian rants for reserves

MONTREAL—Algonquin hip-hop artist Samian raps about the realities of life on First Nations reserves in Quebec. With a growing following on reserves and in Quebec's cities, he's also struck a chord with hip-hop communities everywhere.

Exploding the classic political binary of Quebec's two solitudes, Samian raps about Indigenous people and their history in the province. His chart-topping hit "La Paix Des Braves," a duet with Quebec hip-hop crew Loco Locass, appeals for solidarity between Quebecois and Indigenous people. Samian's recent collaboration with Sans Pression on their single "Premieres Nations" helped cement his role as a key voice in the Montreal contemporary hip-hop scene.

Stefan Christoff sat down with Samian to discuss contemporary hip-hop in Montreal and the ways the genre is increasingly speaking to, and representing the struggles of, First Nations communities in Quebec, in Canada and throughout the Americas.

Hip-hop's origins in New York City were rooted in rhymes that addressed social injustices, especially the racism and social exclusion faced by African-Americans. Today in Canada, Indigenous people face similar systemic social exclusion: racism, incarceration, substandard housing and medical options and poverty. Hip-hop is increasingly used as a response to this reality and artists are rapping about the social injustices faced by Indigenous people. Can you talk about how your work relates to the history of hip-hop as a socially conscious art form? How do you connect your work to hip-hop history?

Hip-hop has always been an art form through which people have made demands, appealed for change and denounced the social injustices faced by African-Americans in US ghettos. Certainly the history of African-American struggle in the US, like we saw with the Black Panthers, is tied to hip-hop music [and] culture.

Indigenous people in Quebec, in Canada, have lived through a history of oppression like African-Americans. Today we are still calling for justice, and hip-hop is a vehicle to call for this change. As an artist, I love hip-hop because it allows for free expression: You can talk about whatever issues are important to you. Hip-hop is a space for me to express myself on many subjects, to denounce injustices. It's also a space to propose positive solutions for social ills, and to reflect on the world around me.

What are you trying to make people more aware of through your music?

Our reality, the life on the reserves, the fight to retain our culture, the fact that we are struggling to keep our language. Also I want to make people aware that Indigenous people have a rich history and culture that is ignored by the mainstream.

Through hip-hop we are opening people's eyes to our culture and also to our long, long history on this land. I want to speak to youth in Quebec who don't always learn about real indigenous history in the school system. Quebecois and Indigenous peoples' history in Quebec are interlinked. This relationship between our cultures has shaped what we know to be Quebec today, and who we are. Sadly our Indigenous history is often shoved to the side because it shows an underlying brutality in the national narrative.

Many Montrealers don't know about the situation facing Indigenous people on the reserves here and in Quebec. In this context, how do you see hip-hop as a way to educate people about the Indigenous reality here? How do you address these issues in your music?

I think my music has the biggest impact on the reservations. The music sparks the spirits of the new generation on the reserves, and gives youth pride in our culture, and in our language.

But for everyone in Quebec, I hope my music inspires a more open spirit towards the realities faced on reserves, because people need to wake up to the difficulties and poverty we experience. The mainstream media don't address our situation thoroughly, so I am trying to communicate our reality. Simply put, there are two different realities, two different worlds, two different experiences of life in Quebec—one on the reserves and one off the reserves.

In Quebec, we have a national slogan: Je me souviens. But really, what do we remember in Quebec? In Quebec we forget some of the biggest parts of our own history. How was Quebec and Canada founded? What ever happened to the people who originally lived here? Why does the world forget that there are over 500 languages spoken across Canada, and not just English and French? So much about our history has been hidden or erased, and so young people never learn about the first peoples. These are all questions that—incredibly—aren't well answered in our schoolbooks. The government is also directly responsible for the lack of knowledge about our history, because Indigenous culture and history is not a priority, and not taught seriously within the public school curriculum.

Recently, I looked up "Algonquin" in the dictionary and was shocked. The definition read something like "a people that don't exist." I was shaken to the core after reading this—how absurd. I am an Algonquin artist today in Quebec, I exist and my people exist. Today, after thousands of years, we are still on this land as Indigenous people. We are still here and are gathering strength; my hip-hop verses express a pride for Indigenous people in Quebec.

As an artist, your hip-hop is unique and has struck a chord in Quebec. What do you think makes your work compelling to so many different audiences?

I wrote poetry before ever thinking about rap. I eventually fell into rapping almost as an accident. Today I work with amazing musicians who are able to complement my verses with music. I think the relationship between my verses and the musicians that I collaborate with has become richer with time.

My second album is much deeper musically than the first album, and now it feels like things are constantly developing for me in exciting ways as an artist. All my first songs weren't written with, or for, specific music, so now that I work with musicians in developing my verses, the creative process has changed a lot.

At the root, I am an artist, not a politician. My songs are about real issues, but I address those issues as an artist. Many people say that my work is really political, but actually I know nothing about the political world. I address issues that are important to me.

But you are linked to grassroots political movements. Do you mean you aren't tied to the world of politicians and government?

I am interested in speaking out against injustice and trying to build towards solutions that solve those injustices. I'm not at all interested in official politics or political parties. Actually there hasn't been a major politician in North America, in the US, or in Canada who has proposed something really good for First Nations people. No proposal deals with the historical injustices we faced and the contemporary situation.

Perhaps we could look to Evo Morales in Bolivia as an example?

[Laughing] Today Bolivia is an exception in the Americas, because Morales is an Indigenous president! In Bolivia, Indigenous people are the majority, while in Canada we are such a small minority today.

In Bolivia the government of Evo Morales signed the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples into the national constitution. Here, Stephen Harper refused to sign the letter or even vote in favour of the charter at the UN. Harper made that apology for residential schools, but he voted against the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.

The government in Canada wants us to remain in an unequal position and as a minority, with no political power. Indigenous people live in Third World conditions right here in Quebec and throughout Canada. So, is Canada progressive? In the US there is an African-American president; could you ever imagine a First Nations prime minister in Canada? Indigenous people in Canada should take inspiration from the African-American struggle, which won many rights for black people in the US. Actually, we need to wage a similar struggle in Canada, a civil rights struggle.

Can you talk about the concerts that you've given in Indigenous communities across Quebec? Do you feel different about the concerts that you give on reserve and those in the city?

Actually my concerts on reservations are really, really special for me. I feel that the most meaningful impact from my music is on the reserves. To meet youth on different reserves and to connect with youth, to talk about their realities—this is a big source of inspiration for me. I can connect strongly with this, given that my own experiences are linked.

My work tries to project the true voice of First Nations people: Those on the reserve that I meet who are always struggling to survive, struggling for justice... I hope my music inspires youth to dream louder and create a better future.

This interview originally appeared in the Hour.

For more info, visit www.samian.ca.

Stefan Christoff is a Montreal-based community organizer and journalist who regularly contributes to the Hour. He can be contacted at christoff@resist.ca.

Kisakiin

Audio Vision

hillarybain — Fri, 22 Jan 2010 06:07:26 +0000

Campus and community stations transform to accommodate people with disabilities

HALIFAX—Every Monday, listeners tune into CKDU 88.1FM to hear host Adam Noble count down Halifax’s top 30 albums on the popular chart show Radio Numerica. They would never know that Noble is blind.

“I hope to help more people who are blind or visually impaired become involved in radio and to get their voices heard,” says Noble.

Like many people living with disabilities, Noble encounters societal barriers in activities that others may take for granted, like hosting a radio show. He and his allies at campus and community stations aim to change this, by giving support to the voices of people with disabilities and making radio stations more accommodating to their needs.

With the help of Noble and other disability-conscious radio volunteers, the National Campus and Community Radio Association (NCRA) is compiling a guidebook and accompanying audio disc to distribute to its 74 campus and community member stations across the country. The handbook is scheduled to be complete by spring. The authors hope it will increase radio programming on disability issues, as well as to encourage stations to analyze accessibility in their own spaces and ultimately promote an accommodating environment for people with disabilities.

“Ideally,” says NCRA Membership Coordinator Shelley Robinson, “All people [will] have full access to our stations and our processes so they can suggest and make the changes themselves, from the inside.”

That’s exactly what Noble did when he began volunteering in the campus and community radio field in 1998 at CHSR 97.9FM in Fredericton, New Brunswick before joining the CKDU team in 2008.

Noble was initially drawn to campus and community radio by his love for music, but was also intrigued by an atmosphere that welcomed a diversity of individuals. “The staff and volunteers have been very helpful to me,” he says. “Each Monday when I host Radio Numerica, CKDU’s music director makes sure I have the CDs I need and that the top 30 chart is accessible for me.”

“I used to be an extremely shy person and was afraid to ask for help if I needed it,” says Noble. “Once I moved out on my own I soon realized that I needed to overcome [shyness] or I wouldn’t make it by myself.”

Many community spaces fail to accommodate a wide scope of physical and mental disabilities. Accessibility is a common obstacle within public spaces: buildings often lack wide corridors for walkers and wheelchairs, and few public places are functional for the visually impaired. Noble gives the example of “walking into an office building and trying to find a certain floor in an elevator but there isn’t any Braille on the keypad.”

André St. Jacques, a volunteer at CHUO 89.1FM in Ottawa, faces similar constraints in his wheelchair.

CHUO is located in the sub-basement of the Morrisset library at the University of Ottawa campus. St. Jacques’ mobility limitations force him to depend on elevator service. On Thursday evenings he must be at the radio station one hour before his midnight show since the facilities department turn off the elevators at eleven o’clock. “I was constantly being locked out if I did not arrive on time, and then it was always a struggle to get out of the building once the show was over,” says St. Jacques. “The station manager fought with the school administration and now the University is more aware of the challenges.”

Cooperation between staff and volunteers at CHUO played a significant role in St. Jacques’ radio experience. “No one has made me feel like I don’t have a voice,” he says. Alongside hosting and co-hosting three French programs on the airwaves, St. Jacques is a member of the station’s Board of Directors and speaks up on behalf of disability needs.

Staff support was crucial in enabling Noble to establish CHSR as a functional space for the Blind. “When I started at CHSR the staff and volunteers were very excited to work on making the station accessible,” he says. “The first job was to put Braille labels on all of the equipment in the master control room as well as the production studio.”

Making a space accessible for disabled persons also involves educating the able-bodied people who share the space. For instance, there are programmers who peel away at the Braille labels—an anxious habit while hosting on air—and eventually remove the labels unknowingly.

Pierre Loiselle worked alongside Noble during the construction of a disability-conscious space at CHSR in Fredericton. “Challenges [from a staff perspective] included mobilizing the membership to be considerate to the needs of people with varying abilities,” says Loiselle, “[such as] getting the membership aware that they had to place their bags on a chair as opposed to the floor, not move the furniture around, and if any temporary changes were made, things had to be put back in their place immediately afterward.”

However, supportive staff and Braille labeling alone do not make a space accessible for the Blind. Specialized equipment for the visually impaired is also required, but the equipment is costly and these purchases are expensive for radio stations with small budgets. For instance, Job Access With Speech (JAWS) is a screen-reading software program that reads aloud everything on the computer screen. Noble has been using JAWS for twelve years but he had to spend $1,000 out-of-pocket.

“Once you are finished school there is no funding that I know of that will help buy equipment for persons with disabilities,” he says. “There are definitely some challenges [associated with having a disability] but with new technology that’s available, slowly it gets easier.”

In order to mobilize awareness for a Blind-functional radio station in Halifax, staff members at CKDU are seeking funding from the federal government for a contract position for Noble. The goal of the short-term contract will be to make the studios at CKDU more accessible by installing screen-reading software, offering training for Blind programmers, addressing disability awareness in general volunteer orientation, and communicating with the membership about the technological and physical features of the space.

Whilst the campus and community radio handbook will initiate conversation regarding disability issues, stations across the country have a long way to go to being accessible. When speculating about the number of disability-conscious community radio stations in Canada, Robinson states: “[T]o be honest, I have no idea how many [stations] have volunteers with disabilities or can accommodate people with disabilities, especially since there are so many [disabilities] to consider.”

There is still a long way to go, but Noble has helped make CKDU a more accessible space for blind programmers so others like him may have the opportunity to work in radio. “I’ve had an extremely positive experience in radio. I remember my first time on the air I was scared to death. With lots of practice eventually I began to relax and have a lot of fun.”

“I always tell people to never be afraid to ask me questions about my disability. I would rather people ask me stuff than assume things. People need to understand that just because I’m blind I can do just as much as someone who is sighted.”

Radio Numerica broadcasts Mondays 1:30-3:30AT on CKDU 88.1FM or www.ckdu.ca.

Gianna Lauren is a radio enthusiast, vegan baker, musician and writer. She hosts a weekly female-focused news and music program on CKDU called Third Wave Radio.

Adam Noble 1

Adam Noble 2

Sickly Sweet Censorship

Tim McSorley — Sun, 17 Jan 2010 06:19:47 +0000

Despite legal threats, screenings of Coke-critical film continue

MONTREAL—Coca-Cola may be one of the world’s most visible brands, but there's one part of their operations they don't want you to see.

Early this week, organizers with the Cinema Politica documentary screening network received a letter from lawyers representing the $20-billion US multinational. The letter threatens action if Cinema Politica screens The Coca-Cola Case, a newly released film critical of the company’s labour practices. Cinema Politica is set to kick off an international tour of the film tomorrow with a screening in Montreal.

In the letter, the lawyer claims the film is defamatory and statements by certain characters violate a confidentiality agreement surrounding the mediated outcome of the court case. The film's co-directors maintain all the information and statements in the film—while not necessarily easy to find—are publicly available and therefore fair game. German Gutierrez, who co-directed the film with Carmen Garcia, says although Coke had already attempted to block the film, the directors believed they had reached an agreement with the company.

"During the shoot they approached one of the main characters to ask us to cut two scenes from the film. We decided not to [because] the information is all publicly available," he explains. "Then we reached an agreement that [the company would not interfere with screenings] on two conditions. One is that Coke's lawyers can attend all screenings. [Two], that we inform Coke of all screenings all over the planet. So now, with this letter to Cinema Politica, we are surprised."

Coca-Cola's legal counsel did not respond to a request for an interview about why they sent the letter now. The film has already screened in Canada—including an extended run last fall at a Montreal documentary film festival—and around the world, without objection from the company.

"[Coke is] trying to use this momentum to...censor the documentary, because they see Cinema Politica for what we are: a student-run, grassroots organization," says Ezra Winton, programing director for the group. "Lawyers think it would be easier to censor the film in the hands of a grassroots organization. They also see that the film didn't quietly run the festival circuit and then disappear; it's still screening in over two dozen Cinema Politica locales in Canada and overseas."

While Winton says they are taking the precaution of consulting a lawyer, Cinema Politica plans to go ahead with their screenings in over a dozen cities in Canada and a half-dozen internationally.

"It's kind of Orwellian to think that lawyers could censor a film that documents one group's struggle for basic labour rights and accountability from their employer. It says that large corporations are beyond criticism in documentary films and elsewhere and that's a dangerous precedent," says Winton. "We need more [criticism] through popular media like film so [corporations] can be held accountable for their practices when it comes to labour rights and water issues."

The Coca-Cola Case, co-produced by Argus Films and the National Film Board of Canada, follows American lawyers Daniel Kovalik and Terry Collingsworth, along with activist Ray Rogers, as they pursue Coke through the law—over charges of murder, torture and kidnapping in Colombia and Guatemala—and through public opinion—with the international "Killer Coke" campaign.

Colombia has the highest rate of violence against union organizers in the world and workers who attempt to organize unions in Coca-Cola bottling plants are no exception. Violence towards these workers, including the murder of organizer Isidor Gil, prompted Kovalik and Collingsworth to launch a suit under the US Alien Tort Rights Act, allowing US companies to be pursued for crimes committed outside the US. Gutierrez and Garcia were inspired by this attempt to hold Coke accountable.

"Coke is a successful company: they've made money for past 100 years; they are an icon all over the world. Why doesn't Coke split the cake a little bit more with its workers? It isn't going to change [the company's] life," says Gutierrez.

Beyond the company's alleged human rights abuses, both Gutierrez and Winton say there are important reasons for this film to screen at universities and colleges. Coke, they point out, has been heavily criticized for its attempts to gain exclusivity contracts on campuses, effectively banning any other company's beverages—including beverages they don't produce, such as soy milk. In two instances, at the Universities of British Columbia and Calgary, Coke attempted to ban new drinking fountains because they competed with bottled water sales on campus, according to Winton.

"They're strong-arming students to block access to drinking water and force them to buy bottled water," he says. “That's problematic and, for very good reasons, students across the country aren't happy with this situation.”

Film-goers will get the chance to voice those opinions. In keeping with Cinema Politica's focus on fostering debate, discussions will follow all Canadian screening dates, some with the directors and "Killer Coke" organizer Ray Rogers.

Winton admits it isn't easy dealing with some of the controversy and legal threats that come with screening political documentaries—this isn't the first time they've been pressured to cancel screenings—but feels it vindicates the work of the filmmakers and Cinema Politica.

"For one of the world's most successful corporations to put in the effort to shut down this tour illustrates that the filmmakers are doing something right," he says, "and that we are doing something right, by circulating and screening the film."

The Coca-Cola Case screening series launches January 18 at 7:30pm at Concordia University in Montreal, followed by a Q&A with Ray Rogers, German Gutierrez and Carmen Garcia. Find the full schedule, watch the trailer and interviews, and find out more, including dates for planned theatrical releases.

This article was originally published by the Media Co-op.

Tim McSorley is Media Analysis editor with The Dominion.

Coke bottling

Coke.Hope

Olympic Spirit

Moira Peters — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 09:57:17 +0000

What is genuine Indigenous art?

KUTENAI TERRITORY, TURTLE ISLAND—The day after my first child was born, I carved my first piece of sculpture from a piece of tree root that caught my attention as I sat by a fire. I had been a devout atheist since an early teen rebellion against forced Christian indoctrination, but the finished carving was, in my heart, a spirit guardian for this incredible fresh new human being who had come so profoundly into my life.

Growing up on Cree reserves and in small Canadian towns in Cree Territory, I had never seen anyone, other than the Dene painter Alex Janvier, making what Canadians called “art.” On the prairies, unlike the west coast, there was no cultural tradition of carving. Why I suddenly pulled my pocket knife out and began carving a tree root is mysterious, though looking back thirty-six years later I can see by the timing that it obviously had something to do with the birth of my first child.

The death of my second child, in a car accident, at age three, shook my atheistic view of the universe, at least on an emotional/spiritual level. The action of carving, now stone instead of wood, 14 years on, became a space where my atheistic mind-chatter faded back into oblivion, while my body, heart and spirit worked cooperatively to give physical form to the anguish I experienced with that beloved child’s death.

When an Elder came to me and said he had a message from my dead child, which he had received in a sweat lodge ceremony, I placed a mental pause on my atheism and started attending indigenous ceremonies, a wandering circular journey around and back to where my long-ago ancestors had been driven off of their path.

Births and deaths jostled me along, until I was fully engaged in my own traditional ceremonial life, still a devout atheist whenever the topic turned to Christianity, but now something else as well, most vividly revealed in my stone sculptures. The process of working with stone still felt like time off for good behavior from the ceaseless chattering of my mind, but now my life was suddenly full of Elders and other cultural teachers and mentors. These folks began to explain to me what my sculpture in stone was all about.

They would point out things in my work which I hadn’t seen until they did so, but which were completely obvious. My Elders could read them as expressions, literally utterances, of the Rock Spirit. Also, things like why the spiritual pipe bowl is made of stone, and why the pipe stem is made of wood, were explained. The role of the stone in ceremony, particularly the stone’s special function as spiritual spokesperson for a stumbling, bumbling, stuttering, inchoate humanity, patiently working away at getting the message right, became clear to me.

Twenty years on as a stone carver, and professionally so, but with no formal exposure to western theories of art, I began to encounter non-indigenous artists, and hear their opinions about what they did and why they did it. As my profession as a stone carver advanced, I gradually became aware that most artists, even indigenous artists, if trained in a real art school, took personal responsibility for designing and constructing their art work.

Thirty-six years on as a stone carver I see that the I/me/mine theory of western civilization is shaky, shaken, while still running on blindly over its evolutionary cliff-edge. The lemmings in the middle of the pack are making an anxious discussion about their short-term futures, shouted exchanges are heard above the general din of the stampede, and a few margin-dwelling souls are bolting off in different directions.

The Rock Spirit uses me like any one of the tools I use on my tool trolley, when I roll out into my studio yard. The Rock Spirit pounds on me, knocking off little chips here and there, gradually shaping my consciousness over time. The Rock Spirit contrives to have me leave messages for her/him, in a geological time-scale medium, granite; should there happen to be future human generations, they can contemplate what she/he is saying to them.

Indigenius socialism, through practiced humbility, re-directs the I/me/mine human tendency towards a mother earth/great mystery consciousness. I see this phenomenon as the watermark proof of authenticity of what I'll risk calling genuine indigenous art.

Western societies appropriate indigenous cultural phenomena while almost unthinkingly crushing indigenous realities. A current example is the adoption of various indigenous themes as winter Olympic mascots. By invoking mistanapew, mosom maskwa, mosom mikopeheysew and other indigenous spiritual beings as plush toy souvenirs of the 2010 Winter Olympics, while the entire region where the Olympics are being held is illegally occupied by Canada, is mocking both the notion of law as vigorously promoted by Canadians, and the spiritual relationship between indigenous peoples and the land which Canada claims as its dominion.

All of this passes below the level of consciousness for most Canadians, except, of course, the folks at the Dominion, of Canada.

Gifted with a white privilege suit on his Birth Day, Steinhauer has been slipping back and forth across the invisible boundary between Turtle Island and Canada, since 1952, in his lovely birthday suit. And this is what he saw.

Red Thunder's Gift

A Poetic Ascent

Moira Peters — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 05:18:42 +0000

Shugendo Now is a film for the cynic

TIDNISH, NS—I’ll be honest that from the tag-line, “Everywhere you go, you can find a holy mountain,” I was worried Shugendo Now might be yet another addition to the never dying trend of self-help theory for the serenity seeking urbanite. Instead, this documentary film by Montreal-based Jean-Marc Abela and Mark Patrick Maguire is both exotic and relevant. It tells the stories of several unlikely eco-pilgrims: a night club owner, a construction company manager, a disheartened office worker and a “rogue-monk”, Kosho, who takes on a landfill for industrial waste.

Maguire's ethnographic fieldwork in Japan in the summers of 2002 and 2003 inspired the film. But, even if you are not a folk religions enthusiast, I think you will be intrigued by the obscure Japanese folk religion Shugendo, and the age-old tradition of mountain devotion of the yamabushi mountain monks. Filmed in 2007 the film documents the annual July 7 pilgrimage of the yamabushi and their urban followers in the Omine Mountains. Not to be confined to comparative religion classes, nor, thankfully, in spite of the risk, sloshing around in a swamp of spiritualist clichés, the film is a call to a new kind of personal and community empowerment.

“As with food issues,” Abela reflected over a bowl of fruit in August in Montreal when we met to talk about Shugendo Now, “it is so hard to consume in a responsible way. Once you accept these contradictions you can move on.”

No stranger to food issue activism, Abela has made videos for Montreal’s Santropol Roulant rooftop garden project and is a believer in the practice of permaculture. Like the film's rogue monk protagonist, Abela, a self-proclaimed coureur des bois archetype (according to Wikipedia an individual who engaged in the fur trade without permission from French authorities) is critical of lifestyles that are not in tune with the environment: “In Canada, I see people who live in the country but who live high-energy lifestyles. There’s a disconnect there. And with activists, I’ve seen people burn out.”

So, why is a film like this important for Canadians to see? “Going to nature is a universal thing” says Abela. “And with activism, there has to be a connection [to nature]. So one thing we added to the film was a discussion of monoculture forests because in Japan, especially after WWII, the rice fields which had been replanted with fast growing cedars are telling us something about the huge impact we’ve had on nature. And I asked myself, isn’t this what we’re doing to our own forests in Canada?”

As Abela suggests, throughout the world, governments are actively promoting the expansion of large-scale monoculture tree growth, despite the serious social and environmental impacts. In New Brunswick (on whose border I am writing this article) the Acadian forest “ceased to exist” as a result of harvesting for shipbuilding in the 1800s, according to J. Loo and N. Ives in their article in The Forestry Chronicle, "The Acadian forest: Historical condition and human impacts." Currently the average forest age is approximately 55 years and consists overwhelmingly of white spruce, a species regenerating on abandoned farmland. As the Chronicle documents, over time, the Acadian forest and its distribution of species has become less diverse, resulting in lower overall ecosystem diversity.

It is easy to leave this film feeling inspired, but I always approach a documentary film with the understanding that the truth behind what is said is as potent as what is not shown. Do the eco-pilgrims maintain their promises to practice sustainable business? Do they continue to embrace their new-found connection to nature? I was moved by the film's slow and beautiful exploration of the pilgrims' journeys toward spiritual reconnection and environmental awareness, but it was hard to stifle laughter as they desperately lit up at the summit. Likewise it was hard to stomach the fact that, while women are allowed to participate in the practice, they are forbidden to set foot on the top (having climbed a fairly significant mountain myself, I can’t imagine being denied this hard-earned prize).

However, should we embrace Shugendo Now's call to take a more balanced approach to environmental actions, to become empowered as individuals and less fanatic about the actions of others, then perhaps this kind of tension is integral . Ultimately, what I took away from this film is that even the busiest, most consumerist among us have a deep human need to recognize the sacredness of the environment, a truth the film addresses in a subtle, palatable way. And while the environmental message of the film may be its “heart,” the great strength of Shugendo Now is its camera work, recalling another beautiful film, Rivers and Tides, the documentary by German filmmaker Thomas Riedelsheimer of the British nature artist Andy Goldsworthy (who lives in Scotland). In fact, Goldsworthy’s words could serve as an alternative tag-line for Shugendo Now (for the cynics among us): “I don’t think the land needs me, but I need it.”

The best way to view this film? I suggest donning a sweater and projecting it on a bed sheet, on an autumn balcony, with the wind and the city sirens providing a very fitting, if contrasting, soundtrack. The directors have applied to several festivals but if you would like to host a screening or order a DVD please send them email at shugendonow@gmail.com or visit the website.

Meaghan Thurston has worked in Montreal, Halifax and Guatemala and currently resides and studies in Edinburgh.

Shugendo Now Trees

Shugendo Now Buildings

Slingshot Rhymes from Palestine

dawn — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 05:22:04 +0000

An interview with filmmaker Jackie Salloum on Slingshot Hip Hop

MONTREAL—Palestinian hip hop is on the rise, gaining popularity around the world as the international movement against Israeli apartheid picks up steam.

Palestinian culture has been expressed for generations through the words of celebrated singers such as Fayrouz or Marcel Khalifé, but in recent years rap has emerged as a strong contemporary cultural expression from Palestine.

Slingshot Hip Hop is a documentary film that chronicles the emergence of Palestinian rap in the past decade, in the West Bank, in Gaza and in Palestinian communities living inside Israel. Palestinian hip hop artists have connected with the socially conscious roots of American hip-hop culture and translated the spirit of groups like Public Enemy to the refugee camps of Palestine.

As a film Slingshot Hip Hop is a moving portrayal of young Palestinian artists struggling to tell the Palestinian story of dispossession while also struggling to find voice within their own society. Filmmaker Jackie Salloum, based in New York City, began creating Slingshot Hip Hop after first making a video to accompany DAM’s celebrated track Min Irhabi (Who’s the Terrorist?).

Salloum’s film has been warmly received around the world, making the official selection at the Sundance Film Festival, and winning awards at numerous festivals, including the Audience Choice Award at both the Beirut International Film festival and the Toronto Palestine Film Festival.

Salloum spoke with journalist Stefan Christoff on the heels of another North American tour of DAM, the first Palestinian rap group featured in the celebrated documentary. The tour will include multiple stops in Canada.

Stefan Christoff: During the last Israeli attack on Gaza, wondering if you were in contact with the Palestinian rappers in Gaza featured in the film, living through the bombings, wondering how that period was for you and the hip hop artists in Gaza.

Jackie Salloum: Phone lines in Gaza were down so it was difficult to remain in touch during the war, but sometimes it was possible to connect online. Reaction from the hip hop artists in Gaza was basically horror.

Palestinian rapper Ibrahim from Jabaliya refugee camp in Gaza basically has seen everything during his life, but insisted that this war was the worst they ever had seen in their lifetimes.

Ayman, a member in Palestinian Rapperz, was on the phone speaking with me during the war and quickly Israeli tanks surrounded his apartment, the phone line cut. The next day we got news that Ayman’s house was hit by four Israeli rockets; Ayman’s house was destroyed completely and his father martyred.

I was fixed on Al Jazeera throughout the war on Gaza throughout the day, felt completely crazy watching the war happen, feeling that it was impossible to make it stop immediately. It was a horrible time for me and millions around the world.

Christoff: Slingshot Hip Hop weaves together stories of hip hop artists from throughout Palestine, wondering if there are any particular moments that stand out for you from making the film while filming in the different areas in Palestine.

Salloum: Filming in 1948* stands out, working with Palestinians who hold Israeli passports, it was clear that Palestinians from different regions have preconceived notions about each other that are surprising, as they can’t visit each other due to Israeli occupation and travel restrictions.

Having an ability to move around Palestine, given my US passport, really was striking, as the artists featured in the film simply couldn’t move around. It is impossible for Palestinians living in Palestine to move between their different territories: the West Bank, Gaza and inside Israel.

In Gaza I would tell the rappers that I was planning next to visit Akka next for example and it was really sad to see their faces knowing that they simply couldn’t travel with me. Although even with a US passport it still was very difficult to enter Gaza at all.

Christoff: Recently Slingshot Hip Hop screened in different countries in the Middle East, wondering what the reaction was to the film?

Salloum: Slingshot Hip Hop screened all over Syria this year, again and again audiences surprise me with a lack of knowledge on the travel restriction that Palestinians face, their inability to travel between different territories. People in Syria were particularly surprised about Gaza, as the images that people in Syria are use to viewing about Gaza are images of Palestinian suffering, not Palestinians rapping.

Generally when media covers Gaza it is after an Israeli attack, so these images of war from Gaza are the images that people are use to seeing in the Middle East, on Al Jazeera for example. In Syria many were surprised to see Palestinians having fun and that Palestinians in Gaza even had facilities to hold a hip-hop concert.

It was great to see that even Arab audiences, in Syria, Jordan, were seeing something new about Palestine as the film was intended both for western audiences and also audiences in the Middle East.

Christoff: Music commonly tied to the Palestinian struggle are anthems in the Arab world from celebrated classical musicians such as Fayrouz or Marcel Khalifé, but Palestinian rap brings a new generation of Palestinian cultural expression to the world. Wondering what the reactions have been to the film, Slingshot Hip Hop as a celebration of Palestinian rap, a new wave of Palestinian culture?

Salloum: Actually so many are very excited to see this new face of Palestinian culture.

In Palestine one thing that was beautiful at the screenings, that is different than in North America, is that hip hop shows reach people of all ages, you have both youth and grandparents coming to the same concerts. In Palestine so many young people were so excited about the film; often youth felt that hip hop was a way for people outside, around the world, to understand their struggle.

Actually the older generation is very happy that the younger generation in Palestine has found a new way to express themselves and the Palestinian cause, which is hip hop.

In Dubai and Jordan, there were DAM fans lined up outside the screenings, especially in Dubai as DAM attended the screening, fans who knew every word to every song which was so exciting. Clearly Palestinian rap has connected with people across the Middle East.

In Syria a grandfather came up to me who loved the film and was very emotional, explaining that he hadn’t returned to Palestine since being driven out in 1948 and it was very emotional for him to see the different parts of Palestine today in the film and the music of the Palestinian youth.

Christoff: Back to the US, Slingshot Hip Hop was a reviewed by Harry Allen in Vibe magazine. There is this connection drawn throughout the film between Palestinian hip hop and American hip hop culture, the origins of US hip hop culture, Public Enemy, and Tupac Shakur. Do you find this parallel important today?

Salloum: DAM folks were originally not into hip hop as the image they saw on TV was commoditized hip hop, but then when Tamer from DAM first heard Tupac videos on TV everything changed. Tupac videos featured images that looked just like his ghetto in Palestine. Tamer looked up Tupac online, read the lyrics and felt a connection, feeling that Tupac could have been from Lyd, the town that DAM is from. This launched DAM, this was the trigger.

At screenings in the US many people ask if hip hop in Palestine could become more commercialized as in the US But in Palestine the reality for hip hop is so different. Palestinians are living under military occupation and there aren’t major corporations interested in trying to make corporate or commodify Palestinian hip-hop culture. Palestinian hip-hop has remained grounded.

Actually one thing that has impressed me was that when Palestinian hip hop artists talk about Arab women, they are very respectful and actually rap about women’s rights. DAM has been extremely supportive of Arab women MCs starting up as hip hop artists in Palestine.

Christoff: There are literally thousands of films today in the world about Palestine, wondering what drove you specifically to make a film on Palestinian hip hop?

Salloum: Actually never planned to make a film on Palestine. While studying fine arts at NYU and most of my art focused on challenging stereotypes of Arabs in the media, my art merged with politics and pop culture.

In 2002 was listening to public radio and heard Min Irhabi (Who’s the Terrorist?) by DAM and flipped out because Palestinians were using hip-hop. Quickly looked up the song online and found out about other groups in Palestine using hip hop, this was so impressive. It was an entirely new cultural expression in Palestine going on.

I then translated Min Irhabi to English and made a music video for the song about the massacres that were going on in Jenin at the time in 2002. Then showed the video during my open studio at NYU, my studio was packed and people were really, really impacted by the video. People were coming up to me in tears explaining that they didn’t know that this was happening in Palestine and were asking for more information on the situation in Palestine.

I asked people why this song and video impacted them more deeply than my other work. People explained that Min Irhabi hit them because hip hop comes from the heart.

Palestinian rap wasn’t something contrived, it simply expressed the circumstances facing Palestinian youth. Seeing this powerful reaction and also speaking to professors who encouraged me to make a film lead to Slingshot Hip Hop; however, I really had no idea how long and how difficult making a feature length documentary film was in reality.

Slingshot Hip Hop also changed my experience with Palestine. Today, you travel to Palestine and see so many Palestinian homes being demolished, the Israeli wall being expanded, so many youth are being killed, the situation just seems horrible, actually worse and worse with each year. But after working on this film and seeing the rappers working to make change on the ground through culture showed me a much more positive and resilient expression of Palestinian culture, it gave me hope for Palestine.

*"Filming in 1948" means filming inside Israel's 1967 borders, which Palestinians often refer to as 1948 lands.

For more information on Slingshot Hip Hop visit: http://www.slingshothiphop.com/.

Stefan Christoff is a journalist and community organizer.

Slingshot Hip Hop Poster

Propagandhi Scores Against War

Moira Peters — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 05:33:19 +0000

Torture, Terror, and Don Cherry face the music in the band's sixth release

Propagandhi, Winnipeg’s “progressive thrash” heroes, have just released a new album. Supporting Caste is twelve and a half songs of political passion and metal-tinged post-punk. Singer Chris Hannah discusses the issues inspiring their sixth full-length album.

Erin Empey: Do you think that Propagandhi has evolved since the release of Potemkin City Limits? What’s new with Supporting Caste?

Chris Hannah: I'd like to think so! At the very least, we added The Beave on second guitar to the line-up, so that's new, and in my opinion has added a lot more depth, dimension and atmosphere to our customary sonic pummelings.

Also, Jord has more gray hair on this record. I’m not sure if that comes through on the recording though.

Since you guys decided to fold your record label last year, how has working with Smallman been compared to G7 Welcoming Committee?

Well, considering we're in a time where the racket of selling recordings to people has been essentially eviscerated, it's been pretty good! We've known them for years, they understand where we're coming from and they live within choking distance. These are important factors.

G7 operated using Participatory Economics (parecon), where business decisions were made democratically and profits were shared equally among members. Based on your experience, do you think it could be applied on a larger scale?

After a decade of experience in a parecon-inspired enterprise that was subject to all the human frailties and palace intrigues that every single gathering of more than two people throughout history has always endured, I still can't come up with any good reason why people shouldn't endeavor to embrace parecon's core values of solidarity, equity, diversity and self-management in their workplaces. It makes sense and it is right.

The track “Human(e) Meat” opens with a howling Sandor Katz about to be cannibalized. Who is Katz and why do you want to eat him?

Sandor Katz is someone who talks and writes about food. He has a book called "the Revolution Will Not Be Microwaved" that is actually worth reading until you hit the absurd and utterly embarrassing chapter where he tries to rationalize torturing, maiming, killing and mutilating sentient animals for his personal enjoyment. It is the type of embarrassing new-age hippy nonsense that sets serious debate about food politics and human ethics back a decade every time it rears its hippy head.

We simply used his logic, step by step, and daydreamed me rationalizing torturing, maiming, killing and mutilating him for my personal enjoyment. Which is of course also absurd, which was the point of the illustration.

Apparently he has no sense of humour (or of his own irony for that matter) and is very upset about it. Poor persecuted meat eaters! Will they never be free from the tyrannical oppression of vegetarians?

In “Dear Coaches Corner” you lament Don Cherry using his platform to promote militarism. Do you think that there are ugly politics in hockey culture beyond Don Cherry's routines?

For sure. Cherry is just the emptiest and hence, the loudest barrel. The culture of professional hockey is essentially a propaganda wing of the western elite and their geo-political objectives. Why else would Jim Balsillie, head cocknose of the company that makes the Blackberry, appear on Hockey Night in Canada thanking Canadian troops in Afghanistan for "defending our lifestyle?" Wait, I thought it was about liberating Afghan women? Whoops!

During the pre-release of Supporting Caste, proceeds from downloads went to Partners in Health, Sea Shepherd Society and Peta2. Why are these groups important to you?

Partners in Health provides a preferential option for the poor in health care. At its root, their mission is both medical and moral. It is based on solidarity, rather than charity alone. When their patients are ill and have no access to care, their team of health professionals, scholars, and activists will do whatever it takes to make them well – just as one would do if a member of one's own family were ill. They stand with their patients, some of the poorest and sickest victims of poverty and violence, in their struggle for equity and social justice.

People for the ethical treatment of animals is probably best known as the most frequently criticized and denounced activist organization on the planet. Some of the criticisms are legitimate, like those that lament campaigns that play on and foster or perpetuate sexist stereotypes in the service of drawing attention to the mundane terrors visited upon animals in human societies. Still, Peta2 (the youth wing of its parent organization) is currently the most effective potential gateway drug to an abolitionist animal liberation perspective that is not merely anti-animal exploitation, but anti-capitalist, anti-sexist and connects human affairs with non-human animal affairs.

Less than one percent of the planet's living creatures live on land, so you'll have to excuse Captain Paul Watson of the Sea Shepherd Society for his bluntness when declaring the Sea Shepherds Society's "single-mindedness" for defending the oceans from human encroachment and exploitation. We humans constitute less than 0.1% of life on earth and act like we are entitled to the rest of it. Humans continue to terrorize and destroy the largest-brained sentient mammals in the history of earth and enlist the services of PR firms to cloak the brutality in vestments of scientific research. The Sea Shepherd intends to stop such stupidity.

Do you ever feel awkward about speaking on behalf of groups you are not a part of, such as Aboriginals, refugees or women? With an influential band, is there a danger of overshadowing the voices of those you are trying to help?

Not if you're a good listener. My obligation as I see it is to take the information that marginalized groups have articulated to me about the realities they face in a fucked up system and relay it to my people in a way that has resonance. And what can I say? My people happen to be largely white guys in NHL starter caps. Hey, we need information too, eh!

When are you playing Vancouver?

I refuse to answer such a politically-loaded question!

Erin Empey is a Vancouver based journalist.

propaghandi

Art and Anarchy

dawn — Thu, 09 Apr 2009 06:45:23 +0000

Artists give the Cultural Olympiad the middle finger

VANCOUVER-As thousands of Canadian performers prepare for Olympic Ceremony auditions, a group of Vancouver artists is spreading the word. The F-word, that is.

With posters that simply read, “Fuck the Cultural Olympiad,” a recent underground art exhibit asked audiences to challenge the 2010 Games. The week-long show called Art and Anarchy used art to uncover the many perils of the looming "five-ring circus."

David Cunningham is a street performer and anti-poverty activist in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside. He is an organizer of Art and Anarchy who believes community art is being co-opted to disguise capitalist plunder.

“The only opportunity [the Vancouver Organizing Committee, VANOC] has to represent itself in the Downtown Eastside is to give money to artists,” Cunningham explained. “This creates a facade of progressiveness, where they can claim to be investing in the community.”

VANOC is responsible for organizing the 2010 Games and by 2010 they will have 1,400 full-time employees. The organization's management and board of directors is composed of lawyers, former cabinet ministers, former olympians and corporate executives.

According to Cunningham, small-art sponsorships create an illusion that VANOC is helping Canada’s poorest neighbourhood. In reality, housing promises have been abandoned, the cost of living is rising, and millions of taxpayer dollars have been frittered away—all for the sake of the 2010 Games.

In the basement of the historic Tellier Towers at 16E Hastings, Art and Anarchy showcased a rousing collection of sculptures, carvings, drawings, jewelry and photography. One sculpture—fashioned from spare lumber, chain-link fence and old propane tanks—was once used as a barricade during a tent city protest.

Among the artists’ ranks was Gord Hill: a carver, comic illustrator and vociferous Olympic resistor. He chose to exhibit a selection of black-and-white drawings distributed during anti-Olympic protests. “Most of them were used in posters or leaflet graphics,” he explained in an e-mail to The Dominion.

Hill said artistic expression has the potential to unite and educate a creative community that might not otherwise seek out information. “Art contributes to a culture of resistance, which is what we’re trying to build,” he said. “It’s a way to engage people and get them thinking about the issues.”

The art in Art and Anarchy challenges the audience to become more aware of their surroundings, because the effects of the Olympics are all around them on the streets of Vancouver's Downtown Eastside.

Cunningham observed, community art is sometimes used as a physical barrier, to divide and disguise parts of the neighbourhood. “As we move closer to the Olympics, art is being placed over fences. Art is literally being used as walls.”

Thousands of artists are currently being recruited to participate in the Olympic opening ceremonies and many existing events and rising talents have been brought into the pro-Olympic fold, thanks to funding from VANOC.

First Nations rapper Ostwelve performed as part of the One-Year Olympic Countdown Celebration in February. Though he later stood by his decision to perform in protest, Ostwelve reflected on some of the hardship he faced.

“I’ve heard both sides of the story and seen friendships and life-long connections shattered by the twisted politics of the Olympics,” he wrote in a statement posted on his Facebook page after the performance. “People I considered to be mentors and friends have called me a sell-out.”

Ostwelve maintains he didn't perform for the money, but rather to criticize the 2010 Games on a world stage. “I was surprised to be able to perform there as I felt that my messages of struggle and resistance were well known,” he said. “I never did the performance for money and have always had plans to give that money back to the community.”

While Art and Anarchy is highly critical of government funding and Olympic sponsorship, Cunningham acknowledged Ostwelve’s struggle. “We just want artists to see the strategy behind their funding,” he said. “If you’re going to take the money, recognize there are larger political forces at play.”

Sarah Berman is a Masters student of journalism at the University of British Columbia and a reporter for Megaphone Magazine in Vancouver, where a version of this article was previously published.

The Green Games?

Can You Imagine Life Without It?

dawn — Tue, 31 Mar 2009 06:42:37 +0000

Ian Connacher's "Addicted to Plastic" tracks our most persistent trash

PARIS, FRANCE–There are trips that change your life. For Ian Connacher, it was in 2005. The filmmaker took a month-long expedition with captain Charles Moore out to the middle of the Pacific Ocean to shoot a short film about plastic.

It was here, thousands of kilometres from civilization, that Connacher first witnessed the legacy of our disposable lifestyle.

The North Pacific Gyre, also graphically referred to as the Eastern Garbage Patch, is a magnet for trash from around the world. The most persistent and lethal of this is plastic, in all shapes and sizes—from water bottles and grocery bags to buoys and food wrappers. Much of it originates from land, simply blown by the wind, or carried along by rivers, streams or from overflowing sewage systems. There are countless ways in which the estimated 13,000 pieces of plastic litter per square kilometre of ocean make their way out to sea. Once at large, much of it naturally accumulates on the converging ocean currents of the Gyre.

The Gyre is perhaps the most telling hallmark of our addiction to plastic. But one needn’t travel quite so far to get a sense of it. Plastic is everywhere. It is in our cars, iPods, toothbrushes and pens. Our babies suckle on it, and our food is wrapped in it. But as Connacher discovered at the Gyre, one of the qualities that makes plastic so valuable—its durability—is also what makes it so problematic once it is no longer in use.

Plastic does not biodegrade. In the ocean, however, it often breaks into miniscule bits that marine life often mistake for food. In other words, what starts on the outside of one woman’s salmon filet—in the form of wrapping—could very well end up inside the bowels of another man’s anchovy snack.

The ratio of plastic to plankton is about six to one at the Gyre. It is easy to imagine how such litter is massacring marine animals that ingest the synthetic crumbs or otherwise get entangled in larger objects, such as discarded nets or containers. But there’s more. While plastic repels water, it acts as a sponge for oil and other toxic chemicals. Animals that eat tiny oceanic pellets are in fact ingesting highly concentrated doses of toxic pollutants. Some of these are linked to the kinds of gender-bending hormone disruptions that have found male accessory sex organs in female snails.

The Gyre was a call to action for Connacher. “'Alphabet Soup' (the short) told the story of how plastic gets out to sea and how it affects the food chain. It wasn’t a happy story,” recalls Connacher. “It is impossible to clean the area. So I wanted to find solutions.”

When Discovery Channel turned down Connacher’s idea of adapting the short into a feature film, the filmmaker quit his job, took his life savings and set off on a plastic odyssey that took him to 12 countries around the world. “It was two years of not getting paid and living out of bags. But I knew that the story was compelling and needed to be told.”

The result is an 85-minute, award-winning and habit-kicking documentary. There is one information byte from the film that, like plastic, lingers. Every piece of plastic ever made, except for the small amount that has been incinerated, still exists.

As the film demonstrates, beyond much-needed radical social change, the search for solutions to the mounting heaps of plastic waste leads to two technological fixes. One: take what’s already out there and give it a new life—recycle. Two: search for alternatives to the polymer that are more earth-friendly; substances that can be naturally absorbed back into the ecosystem without putting additional strain on limited natural resources.

"Addicted to Plastic" explores many of the finest examples of recycling in the world, from cozy Patagonia jackets and hand-made Indian handbags to designer wedding dresses and railroad ties. But the limits to these solutions become palpable in India, the country that boasts one of the highest recycling rates in the world, in a scene that the filmmaker describes as one of the most horrific experiences of his life.

“There were rotting cows, hypodermic needles and, I could have sworn, body parts,” Connacher recalls. Entire families of rag-pickers subside on this garbage dump in India. “The soil was bubbling up and part of it was on fire. Pools of insects were hatching and dengue fever was known to be in the dump. And there were children running around collecting crap at the back of garbage trucks, getting paid a dollar a day.”

India also informally imports much of the world’s e-waste, under the guise of charitable donations. Computers, printers, monitors and other ever-rapidly obsolescent electronics come to scrap yard settings for recycling by hand. “You have 10-year-old girls pulling apart circuit boards and handling toxic materials,” says Connacher.

Bio-plastics, made from everything from corn to chicken feathers, make an appearance in the film. While novel forms of seemingly environmentally friendly alternatives are becoming available, habits are harder to break.

It is perhaps for this reason that Connacher is banking on kids. The filmmaker is working to get his documentary into schools and libraries. “The younger generation, they are the ones who are going to have to clean up the mess, alas. Grade six classes have sat through the whole film and asked amazing questions. That inspires me more than anything.”

And if demand cannot be capped, shrinking petroleum reserves may ultimately force civilization to kick its addiction to the material of infinite uses. Connacher recalls one kid asking, “What would the world look like without plastic?”

Carolyn Lebel is a Canadian freelance journalist based in Paris.

For further information, or to buy a copy of "Addicted to Plastic," click here.

North Pacific Gyre

Plastic Film

Two Films Return Power to the Screen

dawn — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 09:29:20 +0000

PARIS, FRANCE–Canada's vast territory is graced with the full range of potential energy sources, from wind, solar and wave power to hydro, fossil fuels and uranium, used for nuclear power. Some see this as an enviable position: many of the world's nations are without the resources to make energy sovereignty possible. However, Canada – like the rest of the world – must come to grips with the dire combination of global warming and dwindling oil reserves.

In the face of this crisis, the nuclear industry has been quick to position itself as the energy source of the future. Its claims are that nuclear power produces virtually no carbon emissions and that incidents like Chernobyl are a thing of the Soviet past. The nuclear industry is enjoying somewhat of a renaissance, with some 35 reactors under construction in 12 countries.

Crude and The Nuclear Comeback are two documentaries from Down Under that explore the nature of oil and nuclear energy, and the role that each play in our society, today and in the future. Both films are essential viewing for anyone uneasy about the fate of our fragile planet.

The Nuclear Comeback, by Justin Pemberton
75 minutes
(Documentary, New Zealand)

If there’s something that big business excels at, it is turning a crisis into an opportunity. In this vein, the nuclear industry has been back in the spotlight recently as a self-proclaimed panacea to global warming and peak oil.

In The Nuclear Comeback, filmmaker Justin Pemberton explores the question of whether nuclear power can indeed chart the path to a low carbon future. His quest is earnest. The filmmaker finds himself in some of the gloomiest places in the world: a ghost town on the edge of the Chernobyl power plant's red zone, in the depths of Sweden’s nuclear waste storage facility some 50 meters below the Baltic Sea, and inside the bowels of an inoperative power station in the UK that will take approximately 120 years to dismantle.

Pemberton also manages to dig up Bruno Comby, a French environmentalist who is pro-nuclear, which is apparently an aberration. France is an exceptional case when it comes to nuclear power: 80 per cent of its electricity comes from this source.

It is one thing to read about the various arguments for and against nuclear power, but it is quite another to be taken on a tour of the facilities that host – in one way or another – some of the most radioactive and lethal substances on the planet. This is the film’s greatest virtue; the buzzing of a massive control panel is as unnerving as the sight of a couple of lone Ukrainian engineers smoking in the radioactive control room of the abandoned Chernobyl plant.

While the ground covered in the 53 minute version of the film is vast, the question of mining for uranium – the mineral that fuels nuclear reactors – is under-explored in the film, as it is in mainstream press.

The nuclear industry’s comeback is perhaps best assessed by an expert from The New Scientist, who is interviewed in the film, as he asks if we are jumping “out of the carbon frying pan and into the plutonium fire.”

Crude - The Incredible Journey of Oil by Dr. Richard Smith
89 minutes
(Documentary, Australia)

It would be a mistake to see Crude expecting classified documents of the wars in the Middle East to be revealed. That said, Crude is a refreshing departure from the geopolitical innuendo that monopolizes much of the talk around one of the world’s most primeval, powerful and coveted substances.

For many of us, a history lesson in oil might seem to begin sometime around the middle of the 19^th century, when the first hand powered rig unleashed the genie in the bottle.

Using striking animations of dinosaurs that could compete with a Spielberg blockbuster, Crude walks us through the greenhouse climatic conditions of the Jurassic era that allowed the formation of oil in the first place. The film makes the case that oil is essentially a concentration of millions of years of ancient sunlight.

Fast forward to modern times. Oil has been unleashed and the dense energy of this liquid sunlight now powers civilization. From the cars we drive to the food we eat, oil is ubiquitous.

Even newborns are drenched in oil from their first moments of life. "Newborn babies slide from their mothers into petro-plastic-gloved hands, are swaddled in petro-polyester blankets, and are hurried off to be warmed by oil-burning heaters," observes author Sonia Shah.

According to the many of the experts interviewed in the film, oil is peaking now. The 95-year-old retired oil pioneer will have seen the rise and fall of an oil civilization in his lifetime. In less than a century and a half, millions of years of evolution have been burned up, ushering in the climatic conditions that enabled its creation.

The film brings out the tragic beauty of this paradox, despite the obvious implications for humanity.

While the documentary remains somewhat conventional in its approach, it is in its content – which is fundamental to our understanding of life as we know it – that this documentary is at once novel and essential.

Carolyn Lebel is a Canadian freelance journalist based in Paris.

Torness NewER

Abundance

hillarybain — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 08:28:33 +0000

Art and trash in Dawson City

BROOKLYN, NEW YORK–One woman stood on tiptoes, biting through fishing line for a full minute until she ‘released’ the paper raven. Another well-dressed woman bent awkwardly over a hard-to-reach shelf, rummaged around, and then held the garbage she found up to her nose to smell it, smiling in delight. A third person spent half an hour surrounded by garbage, left, came back and pondered the garbage for another twenty minutes before selecting a small part to take home.

Each of these people participated in Abundance: The Dawson City Trash Project in late August. Abundance was a gallery installation of a miniature diorama of Dawson City, Yukon, made entirely out of Dawson City’s trash. The installation was the raw material of a performance: each of the 1,000 pieces in the exhibition was available to be taken away by gallery viewers at any time during the show.

While my project engaged in environmental activism on a material level by moving objects out of the landfill, it also set out to achieve a loftier goal: the redefinition of garbage. If trash is generally defined as unwanted, disgusting, diffuse, useless, and unowned, I aimed to make it desirable, beautiful, unique and popular. My success would be measured by the rate at which my art installation disappeared, piece by piece, when people were invited to take the ‘garbage’ home. Locals were friendly when giving me lifts to the landfill to gather the trash I needed, or when donating their used teabags (post-waste-stream teabags are in pretty rough shape and usually moldy), but I wondered: Would they want their teabags back?

The gallery was concerned that perhaps there would be no art to show after the first few days. I was nervous that the gallery would be full until the end. My dream was an empty gallery. Predictably, something in between happened. During the opening, nothing could be taken to ensure that everyone had a chance to see the installation in its entirety. The next day, the audience could literally do anything they wanted, from taking the art, to playing with it, to damaging it. And they did.

People came in little groups and took three or four items at a time. The biggest and best items went in the first week, but not on the first day. Most participants touched the art, even if they didn’t take anything, and many started conversations with other “shoppers.” People searched, played, regarded the piece like a science display with plenty of pointing and comparison, picked pieces up and carried them around before putting them back, taking them away or just moving them around. Some people made messes. Some people stepped on things. To my knowledge, no one added anything. I made a bet with several people who worked in the gallery that no one would take the little plastic Christmas tree parts remodeled as trees or the bottle caps that represented the rivers because they were not sufficiently transformed into art and still resembled their source as garbage. I lost the bet. An eight year old took some trees — and many other pieces — to remodel a diorama in his room, and a visiting artist took bottle caps to hold glue for her art camp students.

In the end, of 1,000 pieces (not including bottle caps), around 500 were taken. Considering the fact that Dawson City’s population hovers around 1,000 and that the show occurred at the end of the tourist season, I believe solid waste management should reconsider its treatment of trash, in light of the fact that trash can be useful, desirable, and aesthetic material, with the potential of creating positive social interactions. The term ubiquitously used to describe Abundance was “fun.”

There is one aspect of Dawson City that made this project possible and a potential leader in the future of solid waste. Dawson City’s dump is not heavily regulated and scavenging in its landfill is not only viable, but occurs as a matter of course. Things are very expensive in Dawson, and there are plenty of good, free materials at the dump. There is even a “free store” at the Quigley landfill, where people can leave their still-serviceable items for others to use. In every other municipal dump I have visited, even if they have a free store, the gates are closed to scavenging. Dawson City, like many other rural communities, has a culture of scavenging and reuse. In many ways, the residents of Dawson City already know that rubbish is valuable, and Abundance: The Dawson City Trash Project was merely a coordinated and playful effort to make this fact measurably visible.

Abundance: The Dawson City Trash Project was made possible by the generous support of the KIAC Artist in Residence Program, the ODD Gallery, The Canada Council for the Arts, and a New York University Dean’s Grant for Student Research. The installation-performance ran from August 14 to September 23, 2008 at the ODD Gallery in Dawson City, Yukon.

Max Liboiron is an artist and Doctoral Candidate in Visual Culture at New York University. She would like to thank the residents of Dawson City for an informative and inspiring project.

Art&TrashParticipation

Art&TrashQuiggley

An Artful Recovery

Moira Peters — Mon, 26 May 2008 17:54:22 +0000

Artists respond to post-Katrina New Orleans

On Friday, August 26, 2005, visual artist Elizabeth Underwood made the decision to evacuate New Orleans when she learned that Hurricane Katrina had strengthened to a Category 3 storm in the Gulf of Mexico. “We knew this was it; this was the big one, the storm we’d been talking about for years,” she says now.

At the time, Underwood was working for the photographer Herman Leonard, renowned for his images of New Orleans jazz culture. Suddenly she found herself on the brink of losing both her job and her home. “Saturday I went to pick up Herman’s negatives to put in the safe at the Ogden Museum. I had to judge what was important, how high the water was going to get, what needed to be taken care of first. After, with the little time I had left, I went home and had to judge what was important for me; first, what was living and then what was irreplaceable. I packed my hatchback with my fifteen-year-old cat and sixteen-year-old dog, leaving behind twenty years of hand-written journals.”

For several weeks, Underwood “bounced around from couch to car to hotel,” ending up alone in Austin, TX, for nearly a year. Then finally, in August 2006, she formulated an idea for a project that would bring her back to her beloved city. In September 2006, she moved into an unheated trailer in the Uptown district of New Orleans and began laying the groundwork for “Art in Action,” turning to her art to help rebuild not only her own life but also that of her city, and joining a growing community of artists committed to doing the same.

As the director of the “community-based, on-going, public art project,” Underwood orchestrates outdoor art installations in hurricane-devastated areas of New Orleans and uses the art to transcribe the experience of visiting those "tourist" areas as she guides visitors through some of the twenty-six sites created thus far.

Underwood found inspiration for Art in Action in the work of artist Tyree Guyton, a fellow native of Detroit. For his Heidelberg Project, he transformed the vacant lots of a decentralized and marginalized district in Detroit into one giant art installation. Today, “though the neighbourhood no longer exists, you can go to the street where the art is still standing,” she explains.

The heart of Underwood’s venture however originates in deep-seated New Orleans traditions. “This is a city that publicly ritualises life, death, and trauma through art, with examples in Mardi Gras and jazz funerals," she says. The jazz funeral stems from a centuries-old African ideology that has, in modern times, become a public, sacred experience unique to Louisiana, in which a jazz band plays slow, mournful dirges while the family of the deceased accompanies the body to the cemetery. After the burial, the band’s tempo accelerates, transforming the experience into a festive celebration that’s open to the public.

This community-based act of sharing in another’s trauma finds echoes in the mission of Art in Action, whereby artists reanimate flood-damaged areas of the city by using them as the backdrops for their public installations, always with the utmost respect and care for the residents. Indeed, the artists can only produce their works with the permission and participation of the landowners and neighbours. Once the installation is up, participants invite the local community to an "opening" party complete with live music and donations from Whole Foods and the local coffee house Fairgrinds.

In 2007, Underwood herself worked with fellow artist Naftali Rutter to create "Picture This" in the Lower 9th Ward. By hanging Polaroid images from the branches of a tree, the artists wanted to comment on how New Orleans has long been “visually fetishized” through photography. On the one hand, images recording the flood are powerful tools with which to communicate the need to rebuild the city and help its residents heal. On the other hand, “in a landscape that now symbolizes the horrific destructivness [sic] of marginialization/‘other-ing’,” it’s hard to find ways to “connect with the landscape/story via photography … with respect and dignity,” as they explain on the Art in Action blog. Picture This, however, also reflects how losing family photos became a shared experience for displaced residents after the storm: “A common refrain of survivors is how [that loss] is what hurts them to this day.” The site continues to evolve, since they invite anyone to add their own photos to the tree, as long as they’re "joyous, singing, and/or celebratory."

In addition to support from the Joan Mitchell Foundation, Art in Action, like other initiatives trying to rebuild and renew the flood-damaged city through art, receives funding from the non-profit Art Council of New Orleans, the official art agency of the city. Even with its office destroyed and under water, the council became indispensable to the city’s art community after the hurricane. Shirley Corey, the CEO at the time of the flood, moved its headquarters some 450 kilometres northwest of New Orleans to Shreveport, LA, in order to field the calls that were streaming in, both asking for and offering help.

One of the offers came from the French government and involved relocating artists to residencies in France. "Because of a long standing relationship with the French Consulate, the Art Council was prepared to work with them, and we were able to recommend a group of visual artists," says Mary Len Costa, Interim CEO of the council who worked with the consulate’s artistic attaché Debbie de la Houssaye to coordinate the residencies.

"New Orleans is a city built on its arts and culture. It’s attractive to artists, with its laissez-faire attitude,” says Gene Meneray, the director of the Arts Business Program at the council. “It’s important for us to help them because a community looks to its artists to tell the stories and capture the thoughts and emotions after a tragedy to make sense of what’s happened." By funding "Social Dress New Orleans" (2007) by Takashi Horisaki, for example, the council has helped bring the story of the Katrina disaster to the Socrates Sculpture Park in Long Island City, NY, where the artist created a sculptural installation made of latex, cheesecloth, steel, and the remnants of a house that once stood at 1941 Caffin Avenue in the Lower 9th Ward.

New Orleans has long identified itself in its artistic community, one with long-standing traditions of celebrating life and mourning death in very public, communal ways. While the population is still not back to its pre-Katrina numbers and many neighbourhoods remain in grave states of decay, the artists of New Orleans are returning to these traditions in order to tell the stories of the flood and ensure the city is reborn more vibrant than ever.

Art in Action
Art Council of New Orleans
The Heidelberg Project
Takachi Horisaki, Social Dress New Orleans

Picture This